


Lorryn

by HarperMoonandNickGrunge



Category: porn with plot - Fandom
Genre: BDSM, Gay Sex, Kink, M/M, Solar Sailors, WTF, why
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-16 21:25:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13062447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarperMoonandNickGrunge/pseuds/HarperMoonandNickGrunge
Summary: Enslaved and forced to mine for a monstrous empire, Lorryn finds his life turned on its head when he is taken into the Emperor's household to serve in another capacity.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I NEEDED A BREAK FROM STUCKY OK.
> 
> Also... Nick sucks. ;3
> 
> If you're interested, this is a story written in the same universe as my book Letting Lier and Finding Pax.
> 
> It's fucking awful.
> 
> No ragrets.

There were times when Lorryn swore he could see home in the backs of his eyelids. That only happened during moments like these when—! 

Lorryn cringed. 

“Foul souls, Jesper. Don’t use your teeth,” he reminded as gently as he could. 

“Sorry,” came his companion’s aggravated voice in the musty darkness. “I’m just not as gifted at this as you are.” 

Lorryn scoffed back playfully, the sound turning into a sigh of relief as Jesper resumed his task. Shutting his eyes again, Lorryn smirked and settled in against the wall of the gorge. 

“A little harder,” Lorryn instructed, adjusting the angle of Jesper’s jaw just slightly. Pleasure skittered up his spine. He moaned low. 

Their sessions had become more frequent lately, mutually progressing from strictly hands only to mouth a couple romps ago. They could hardly help it, tormented during times of sleep with the inevitable erotic dreams and fantasies the planet's gases invoked. 

Lorryn’s fantasy was short, buxom, green eyed, black haired, and insatiable. 

Women were never permitted to work in the mines of Nazarad for this exact reason. Any female slaves kept in Nazarad were immediately sent to the palace, denying the men any satisfaction save from servicing one another. This separation also prevented a barrage of pregnancies. 

More slaves required more resources which necessitated more production. Babies were slaves who couldn’t produce.

Few men engaged in the practice, finding it decidedly undignified, but Lorryn and Jesper had known one another for ten years. 

They were close enough to make it work without wounding their friendship. 

They had taken to bedding down near a slim crevice. It affording them enough room to slip inside together and interact undisturbed if they trekked far enough when the fires were extinguished and the quarry’s caverns went black. 

The schedule was backwards here. 

Instead of sleeping at night and working by day, they did the opposite. On the other hand, it was hard to tell either way. None of them had seen the sun in over a decade. 

Lorryn cursed under his breath. 

“Why are you so distracted?” he whispered uncomfortably, finding Jesper’s lips even less bearable than normal. 

Lorryn had him stand and unfastened the tie to Jesper’s trousers. 

“Oh. You’re already stiff,” Lorryn mused lowly, trying not let on how much he wanted to tease him. "Can't wait for your turn?" 

“Shut it,” Jesper snapped. 

Lorryn sank to his knees and used his tongue to rouse the stiff appendage to full mast. 

“Try to keep it down this time,” Lorryn reminded. 

He felt Jesper’s knees tremble when Lorryn slid his mouth over Jesper's length. Lorryn kept Jesper upright with a hand bracing against his muscular abdomen, Lorryn's strong fingers splayed to disperse his weight and keep him standing. He had yet to begin the real thing. Lorryn listened to Jesper exhale hotly. Shutter. Felt him press harder against the wall. After Jesper was settled, Lorryn began the lucid motions of his mouth, navigating half the length in slow, smooth strokes. Jesper’s sighs became groans of praise before long. The shaft was slick with saliva now, easy to take in strides. 

Jesper weaved his fingers into Lor's hair. Lorryn allowed the bulbous head of the organ into his throat, aiming to heighten the sensation by taking his full span one swallow at a time. 

On the cusp, Jesper bit into a fierce curse and moaned. Lorryn would have laughed if his mouth hadn’t been occupied. 

“Not yet, Lor,” Jesper pleaded. “A little longer.” 

Lorryn slid his mouth off the appendage, obliging him the extension. He regressed to lapping his tongue over the firm limb. His lips engulfed the organ when Jesper’s sounds of satisfaction became more desperate. He sucked. The pull of his mouth coaxed groans from Jesper's chest. 

A few moments later, Jesper released his load into Lorryn’s throat, the explosive sensation accompanied leaving him panting and wrecked. Lorryn turned aside, spat Jesper’s seed on the ground, and cleared the corners of his lips. 

He waited until Jesper was coherent enough to stand on his own to speak to him. 

“Can you focus now?” Lorryn rose and flashed a sidelong smile, imagining Jesper’s dazed expression which was muted in the dark. Lorryn settled back against his side of the gorge. 

“Try again.” 

 

Lorryn opened his aquamarine eyes to a world smattered in shadows and despair. 

The many ditches that splintered off from the main trench, doused in a layer of oil that settled at the bottom and burned through the night, were already ablaze with fire light to illuminate the quarry’s digging zones. Lorryn’s skin, stretched over well-honed muscle, was darkened with dirt smudges and dried blood. 

“Up!” bellowed a voice. The cracking of his three-pronged whip followed. 

Jesper groaned and crushed the calloused palms of his hands over his ears, mashing his face against the stone floor in defiance. 

Lorryn shook his head fondly. 

Jesper had a formidable build, bulky and broad shouldered with dark eyes and dark hair, twisted and matted into a hopeless mess now from the quarry’s lack of combs. Jesper had mentioned it to the overseer once as a joke, barely escaping with his life afterwards. 

Lorryn went to obey, pausing to rouse their third companion, a boy several years younger than the two of them with short brown hair and a lanky build. He was new. They could see his spine. 

“Savan,” Lorryn encouraged. 

The weak body beneath his hand shuddered and tensed to put his palms on the stones and push himself upright. Both Lorryn and Jesper wrapped a hand around his upper arms and helped him stand. Savan finally raised his head, meeting Lorryn’s eyes with a forlorn stare. 

“You mustn’t give in. They’ll come for us,” Lorryn promised. 

Jesper clapped his hand on Savan’s meatless shoulder. Savan jolted. 

“I so love your optimism Lorryn,” said Jesper. “Really brightens my day." 

“Night,” Lorryn corrected, elbowing Jesper. 

“I’m just tired,” Savan protested, rubbing his eyes. “How was I supposed to sleep through that?” 

Lorryn and Jesper glanced at one another, a hot flush of embarrassment roosting in Lorryn’s cheeks. 

“Through what?” Jesper asked, feigning innocence as he started forward. They never discussed that outside the gorge. The others around them were rising and making their way to the mouth of the cavern as well. 

Most of them looked bedraggled. But they always met their quota. The Emperor himself had commented on the substantial decrease in reported injuries since Lorryn’s admission into the Mines of Nazarad. 

Lorryn glanced down at his hands, the blisters he had hacked into his palms the day before completely erased. Lorryn’s healing powers were such a double-edged sword. His wellspring of magic had strict rules. The moment he picked up a weapon of any kind to intentionally inflict a wound on another being the magic vanished for hours to days at a time.

Lorryn could only serve, treat, and toil. But he couldn’t protect. Not without losing his magic.

Lorryn remembered his father gesturing his flagon to the sword mounted on the wall above the hearth. 

“The moment you take up that blade, you will never be able to put it down,” his father had said. 

The injured or weak were usually fed to the Grutadon, two giant reptiles prehistoric in appearance… and comparably legendary bad tempers. They had thick hides, impervious to Nazarad’s blistering temperatures, and several rows of serrated teeth. 

These two beasts pulled the massive stone gates of the walled city open and closed. They were both getting thin and their personalities were becoming less agreeable by the day. If a sentinel wasn’t extremely careful, he would be next on the menu. 

Though the work day began as most of them did, things took an unexpected turn at mid-evening when a palace sentry came to fetch Lorryn. This happened occasionally to a handful of workers, but never before to any of them. 

With the permission of the overseer, Lorryn set his chipping tool aside and followed. He cast an anxious glance at his companions, lingering on Jesper, but followed it up with a reassuring smile before he was led away. 

Wondering what was to become of him now, Lorryn was goaded through a corridor where the air began to thicken with steam. He was shoved into a wider sanctum with a hot spring to the left and a well to his right. Lorryn had never been here before. 

“Get cleaned up,” growled the guard who shoved a washrag at him, turned, and marched down the clouded tunnel. 

Lorryn stepped cautiously into the chamber, marveling momentarily at how the ceiling towered above his head. He shed his shirt. 

The acrid smell of the air, thick with sulfur and brine, pricked his nostrils. The floor was slick with moisture. Beads of water and sweat began to collect on his skin, drawing lines in the grime as they slid down his body. There were two other entrances to the bathing area. Lorryn approached the well and began to draw the bucket upward by its chain. The act was strenuous because the bucket was made of stone, but he managed. 

Lorryn set the bucket on the well’s ledge, ready to dip his hand in, before he caught sight of his own reflection—an image he had not seen for nearly ten years. He did not recognize himself. 

Hardened. And a little haggard. 

Any effeminate features were gone. The telling definition of his nose and angular jaw were ornaments of his age. 

Nazarad had stolen the best years of his life.

Lorryn glared. He thrust his hand into the water to destroy the image and wet the rag. Then he started to try and scrub the caked layer from his skin. His legs took the longest.

He threw his focus into the task, trying to ignore the echoes through the chamber's offshoots. The bubbling in the hot spring. The hiss of the vents. The pattering of droplets. The shadows and swirling clouds created by swaths of steam. More than once, he could have sworn he saw the silhouette of a woman in a floorlength gown standing in the mist. 

He dismissed his suspicions. It was just an unfamiliar room. 

Lorryn felt a twinge of fear when he heard footsteps coming from behind him. 

He was not alone.


	2. More Shit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lorryn gets up close and personal with his king.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why is the wine always gone?

Lorryn whirled around just in time to be shoved against the wall of the well. The bucket tumbled into the pit. A broad hand jutted out and grabbed the chain before the bucket could hit the water. There was another hand around Lorryn’s throat. 

And while Lorryn’s paranoia had been justified, this figure was certainly not a woman. 

Lorryn’s eyes widened as he looked up and realized he was staring into the face of Emperor Sardius himself. Amber eyes ringed in black leered down at him, assessing. Studying. And not kindly. 

Lorryn’s face was roughly jerked aside so Sardius could examine the brand mark on his neck. Lorryn set his jaw. 

“So you are the filth brought to serve in my house,” Sardius surmised, his voice like thunder and war drums. “Then I feel it is my duty… no, privilege, to lay out the rules for you.” 

Sardius turned Lorryn’s face to look at him, his touch nothing like the experimental, clumsy gentility of Jesper's hands. 

“You are not anymore a person here than you were in the mines. You are a possession. No, less than that. You are public property. You’ve no name. You’ve no purpose other than to serve myself and my court. You will obey without question.” 

Keeping Lorryn in place, Sardius coiled the taunt chain once around Lorryn's neck, allowing the subsequent pull to squeeze, but not enough to choke. 

“Should you steal from me, you will repay the cost with your life. You mean less to me than the puss of a festering sore.” 

“Sir--" Lorryn started. 

Sardius let more of the chain slip through his fingers, the weight of the stone bucket tightening the noose. 

Lorryn grimaced. 

“You will address me in the appropriate manner at all times, formally, by Emperor, King, Majesty…” He tightened the chain insidiously as his voice took a nasty turn. “God of the World, Lord of the Universe, Ultimate and Almighty… the like. Sir is slang reserved for the peons of the pits below us,” he hissed. 

Lorryn did his best to nod affirmatively, his fingers trying to wedge their way between the chain and his neck. Their stares were locked. In the moment that followed, Lorryn accidentally damned himself. He allowed the flash of defiance and hatred, not only for his lost years, but for all the lives of the conquered, to pass through his gaze. 

Sardius's arrogance leaped into seething anger. 

“You dare not do that,” Sardius growled through a baleful sneer. He allowed the chain to tighten again. 

Lorryn shut his eyes, trying to breathe, clawing unsuccessfully at the chain. 

“I--I’m.” He winced. “I’m sorry, my King,” Lorryn gasped. The edges of his vision went feathery black. 

At the last second, Sardius reeled the chain in. It went slack. 

Lorryn gulped air into his lungs as the thick metal links slid away from his neck. Sardius suddenly released the chain completely, which had not quite finished unwinding. The burning sensation was instantaneous as it chaffed the skin on its way past. Lorryn hissed in pain. 

With a contented smirk, Sardius grabbed the chain just before it was lost to the well. He seized Lorryn by the jaw and forced his head up to inspect the much anticipated damage. Lorryn knew what he would see when he looked to long. His spirits sank, internal alarms blaring. 

Sardius stared. Frowned. Bared his teeth. 

“What is this magic?” 

Any marks left by the chain would have disappeared, or started to, in the time it took Lorryn to receive them. 

Lorryn could see Sardius's incensed fascination, a dangerous emotion for one so powerful and clearly anesthetized to the pain of others. He looked into Lorryn’s face with a flicker of suspicion. Lorryn’s unease rapidly snowballed when he watched Sardius take a knife from his belt. 

Not again!

Lorryn tried to shove him away, but the royal breadth of the Emperor's body was unmovable. 

“Be still,” Sardius growled, seizing Lorryn's jaw in a vice grip. 

Sardius took the blade of his knife and applied pressure to the skin of Lorryn’s neck, probably enough to draw blood. Lorryn balled up his fists to endure the sting of the cut that would promptly stitch itself shut. 

Lorryn saw the glint of the blade as the Emperor took the knife to Lorryn’s skin and forged a deeper trench down from his neck over the skin of his clavicle and down his chest. Lorryn clenched his teeth in an effort not to cry out. 

He whimpered as the gash started to seal itself again. 

Sardius’s amber attention settled on Lorryn’s face, but Sardius' baffled expression was already progressing to one of sheer villainy. 

“I’ve not seen such devilry in a long time. Who are you?” 

Lorryn avoided the question by averting his eyes. 

“I..." Lorryn knew he could not give away his family’s secret to these creatures. “I do not know.” 

“Hmph.” Sardius sneered. “Raise your arms.” 

Lorryn did not comply. 

“Raise your arms,” Sardius roared, pressing the business edge of the blade against his abdomen. “Or I will see how well your magic works when your guts are on the ground.” 

Lorryn reluctantly did as instructed. Sardius gripped his wrists with one hand and tossed the blade aside. He wound the chain around Lorryn's arms tightly and secured the bond with a fierce tug. Then he released his hold on the shackle and watched it pull Lorryn’s wrists up over the pull bar, wedging them into place and causing an uncomfortable curve to Lorryn's back. 

Lorryn groaned. 

Sardius stepped into him, forcing a gap to open between Lorryn’s legs, creating an unprecedented storm of distress in Lorryn's gut. He tried to shrink away. Tried to avoid all eye contact. 

“I say again, what are you?” 

Lorryn shook his head. “A man, Majesty. Just a man.” 

“Liar,” the Emperor accused, taking rough purchase of Lorryn’s thigh, pressing against him. Lorryn met the action with a look of sheer hatred. The yellow eyes cut to daggers. Sardius ripped what remained of the scant clothing from Lorryn’s hips. 

“You’ve too much pride for a slave of mine.” Sardius unfastened the tie of the trousers around his hips. "I think you need a lesson in humility." 

Slowly realizing the sinister intentions in Sardius’s body language, Lorryn put all his might into trying to rip his wrists from the chain and escape, to get out from in between the barrier of jagged stone and the cruel creature’s body. 

Sadly, Sardius's leverage was impossible to beat. 

 

“What are you?” 

Ruined by shame and splayed on the floor, Lorryn stared up at that towering ceiling adorned with stalactites. His vision watered and he pinched his eyes shut. 

“Nothing,” Lorryn conceded in a hoarse whisper. 

“Exactly. Clean this up,” the Emperor hissed, fastening his trousers. Sardius retrieved his knife and stalked toward the entrance. 

Lorryn rolled to the side to hide his face beneath his arm, unable to stand himself for the moment. 

Any hope he had left of escaping this Hell had just died on that floor. 

His breath sent a ripple out into the fluid on the floor while the pull of his power helped the sharp ache in his lower regions ebb. The same escort reappeared in the tunnel entrance to fetch him. He froze at the sight of Lorryn lying in a shallow pool of red. 

Sardius passed the guard on his way out. 

“I don’t think he’s quite ready yet.” Sardius smirked darkly and continued on his way. 

The sentinel stood silently for a long, heavy moment. Then he approached. Lorryn wouldn’t lift his eyes above his boots, which then stepped out of his immediate line of vision, blurring at the edges. All Lorryn wanted to do was lay there. 

Nazarad’s ascent to power began in the far south. Their initial expansion started with the takeover of Lazapan, a dessert kingdom directly north of their borders situated around a single oasis. From the union of these two lands, Atrosia was born. This was the term Nazarad chose to call its universal empire. 

From there, Sardius' army trekked westward to the coast and swallowed Azamoore, home of the Azamine, ancient whalers famed for their skills in maritime hunting, in the process obtaining enough oil to feed the fires of Nazarad’s trenches for decades as well as a constant, smaller supply for the palace. 

Enterra, Jesper’s home planet of vast grasslands, was the next to fall. 

From there, the army came to the planet of Ienmal, a lush mountainous world, and seized the cities: Briar, Makenweir, Macenwell, Knoll, Vezno, Nemrah, Hesh, Reckenway, Monadda Fon, and Shifai. 

Finally, the glorious capital of Kest under the control of a dual monarchy and the Nacrean Council fell to the Atrosian army. Half of the planet died in the onslaught. 

And there was nothing left to stand in the Emperor's way as his terrible reach combed the entire planetary system.


End file.
